Albedo
by RichardJordan
Summary: As Harry's sixth year begins, new allies emerge, but will they be enough to help him when Voldemort goes on the offensive? What's happening with Dudley? Will the new DADA professor ever show up? And what are the Death Eaters really planning?


As he entered the yard of Number Four Privet Drive, Harry Potter wondered if perhaps he might be better off climbing the tree outside his bedroom window. It wouldn't fool his aunt and uncle, of course. They were sure to have noticed his being gone all day; nothing gave them more pleasure than finding boring chores for him to do. It would only postpone the inevitable, but Harry was beginning to wonder if he might be better off in the long term if he just hid in his room for the rest of the month until the Weasleys came to pick him up.

Harry shrugged. "Here goes nothing," he said, opening the door and wincing at the slight squeak of the hinges. Fortunately, it seemed to have gone unheard, so he hurried inside and into the kitchen to see if he could sneak a bite or two before dinner.

No such luck. All three Dursleys were sitting at the table, finishing sandwiches. "And where have _you_ been, boy?" Uncle Vernon asked in a deceptively mild tone. "Didn't your aunt tell you we'd be eating early tonight? Didn't you hear me talking about the business meeting I have to go to?"

Harry opened his mouth to stammer an excuse, but before he got further than "I, uh,", Dudley interrupted him.

"He was running an errand for me," the portly boy said, turning to sneer at Harry. "You didn't have to dawdle coming back, though."

"An errand? All afternoon?" Vernon didn't appear very convinced. "Are you sure the boy didn't brainwash you or something?"

"You don't believe me?" Dudley asked, his face taking on a horrified expression. He had grown fond of this sort of tactic these days, since the temper tantrums he used to use weren't quite as effective anymore. "My own father doesn't believe me?"

"Of course he believes you, Duddlekins," Aunt Petunia said, patting his arm in a reassuring manner. "It's just that it's not normal of Harry to be so helpful."

"It's true," Dudley asserted, finishing off his sandwich and rising from the table. "Come on, Harry, I've got something I need you to do."

* * *

Albedo

Chapter One: Rapprochement

by Richard Jordan

This story uses characters and concepts created by J. K. Rowling, and nothing in this story should be interpreted as infringing on that author's rights.

* * *

Dudley's room was, by his insistence, his private space. Of course, this meant that Harry (who had done the bulk of the cleaning up until this year) and Aunt Petunia (who had rather grudgingly taken over some of those duties when the Order of the Phoenix had expressed displeasure at Harry being relegated to drudgery) weren't generally allowed inside. In spite of this, he managed to keep it passably clean, even if there wasn't much space for visitors to sit, in between the workout equipment in the corner, the piles of old toys (which Dudley would loudly claim he had no feeling for anymore, and just as loudly protest when his father suggested selling them to a thrift store) in the other corners, and the piles of undone homework he'd been assigned to do over the holidays (which he kept insisting he'd do later) strewn all over the floor.

Given all this, the first thing Harry did was to fetch a chair from his room and plunk it down near the desk, sitting on it backwards with his arms folded across the top of the backrest. "So, Dudley," he began, as his cousin attempted to make himself comfortable in the swiveling office chair at the desk, before giving up on that idea and moving to a more moldable beanbag chair that lay at the foot of his bed. Harry turned his head a little to bring Dudley closer to his center of vision. "So, what's with you?"

Dudley grinned the sort of grin that would look menacing on Draco Malfoy, but just managed to make him look like he was debating whether or not to rob you of your lunch money. It was still fairly effective for him, which was why he kept doing it. He probably didn't even consciously realize he was grinning like that anymore, Harry thought. "What's the matter? Can't a guy help his cousin out of a scrape?"

"The only helping you do is helping yourself to more food," Harry retorted. This wasn't the way their interactions usually went, and he was worried. After all, the last time they'd had a somewhat-normal conversation, it had ended with Dudley getting attacked by Dementors. Could he be seeking revenge, and just going about it in an odd way? "What's this going to cost me?"

"Relax. All I want is some information," Dudley said, leaning back in the chair and trying to appear calm and reasonable. He was doing a pretty good job of it too, considering he was so much out of practice, Harry thought. Dudley lowered his voice. "For starters, you could tell me about those whatsits that attacked me last year, and how you drove them off."

"You want me to tell _you_ about magic? Your dad will go absolutely spare if he hears about this. Are you sure you're all right in the head?" Harry slid his hand closer to his wand pocket. With Dudley, stability was good. It wasn't exactly desirable, but it tended to leave him alone more often than change did. This was altogether too much change in Dudley, and Harry was worried.

"I'm not entirely sure I am," Dudley replied. He held up one of his pudgy hands for Harry's inspection. Harry raised an eyebrow, and the other boy continued. "This year, pretty much just before the holidays, I was out after curfew taking care of some unfinished business, but I nearly got caught. I hid in a storage closet, only to find that it was tricky to open from the inside. I found myself wishing I'd thought to bring my torch along and when I looked back down at the doorlatch I could see it. My finger was glowing, Harry, and if that's not magic, I don't know what is."

Harry gulped. "You mean to tell me that you, Dudley Dursley, did magic? I don't believe it."

"_You_ don't believe it? _I_ thought I was going mad. The light shut off right after I noticed it, but I eventually managed to get the door open. I haven't been able to do it again. I'm not entirely sure I want to."

"I sort of know what you mean. It was a little disturbing for me too when Hagrid burst in on that island," Harry said while he tried to figure out how to handle this. On the one hand, it didn't seem possible that Dudley would be a magic-user; he hadn't gotten an invitation to Hogwarts, had he? Of course, there was the little matter of the mysterious howler Aunt Petunia had gotten from Dumbledore last year. He wouldn't be surprised if Dudley was yet another of the "special exceptions" that the wizarding world loved to throw at him.

Harry sighed. There really wasn't any reason not to let Dudley try to prove himself. He pulled out his wand. "Here. Hold it, like this, like it's a torch, and say 'Lumos.'" A small light shone from the end of his wand. "Nox," he said, extinguishing it, and handed the wand to Dudley. "Now you try."

A bead of sweat dripped down Dudley's brow as he awkwardly gripped the wand. Harry made a few adjustments to his grip, sat back, and nodded. "Lumos," Dudley said, jerking the wand slightly. Nothing happened.

"I see," Harry said, frowning. He held out his hand for the wand.

"One more try?" Dudley asked. After a moment, Harry nodded. Dudley screwed his eyes tightly shut and held out the wand. "Lumos."

Harry blinked. "You did it. I don't know how, but you did it."

Dudley opened his eyes and saw that the tip of the wand was indeed glowing. "Wow. Nox?" The light went out and he handed the wand back to Harry. "That felt weird."

"It's probably because it's my wand. Each wand is meant for a specific wizard," Harry said, pocketing it. "You got it to work because Lumos is a very low-level spell and you're related to me. I doubt it would have worked with Ron's wand, for example."

"Right." Dudley nodded, glancing around the room as if he would find guidance lying in the corner. "So, what now?" he asked uncertainly.

"I don't know," Harry admitted. "There probably hasn't been a case like yours in the history of Hogwarts. Hermoine would know for sure." He leaned back in the chair. "I expect that we ought to go to Dumbledore. Heck, he probably already knows." There came a rapping at the window. Harry hoisted it open and Pigwidgeon flew in excitedly. The diminutive owl circled and made for Dudley, but overshot and hit the window behind him. "You silly bird," Harry said, picking him up and placing him on the desk. "Hey, it's for you." He handed the letter to Dudley.

Dudley turned the envelope in his hands. Harry recognized it as Hogwarts stationary. "That's Professor Dumbledore's writing," he said, pointing at the address. Dudley opened it and gingerly pulled the letter out.

"Mr. Dudley Dursley. I expect that a great many questions are coming to your mind, in light of your recent discovery. I will be more than happy to answer these questions for you. I am in London this evening, so if you have the time, I would be delighted to meet with you. Please send word of your decision with Pigwidgeon. Sincerely, Albus Dumbledore." Dudley looked up at Harry. "Meet with me? Does he mean _here_? He'll be _seen_!" By which, Harry translated, he meant 'seen by normal people.'

"Relax. He can Apparate straight to the house. The only people who will see him will be us—" Harry caught himself. "Your parents _are_ gone already, right?"

"Probably." Dudley went to check, but stopped short when he opened the door.

"Probably _not_." Uncle Vernon said, straightening himself from his crouching eavesdropping position with a visible effort. "Petunia, come see what that nephew of yours has done this time."

Aunt Petunia appeared in the master bedroom's doorway, an earring in her hand. "What is it, Vernon?"

Dudley stepped past his father and out onto the landing, pulling Harry behind him. "Just _why_ is it that I can do magic? And since I can, why didn't I get sent to his school?" he demanded, jerking his thumb at Harry.

Vernon grew red in the face. "Nonsense. He's been trying to mess with your mind, that's all. Probably rigged it so he did the spell when you thought you were doing it. Harry, I've warned you about corrupting my son."

Harry snorted. "Oh please. Like I'd _want_ him, no offense, Dudley, mind you, at Hogwarts! It's enough having to deal with the three of you on holidays."

"You don't have to put it like that." Dudley scowled. "This _wasn't_ the first time, though, and I doubt his kind hangs around Smeltings casting spells in storage cupboards. Besides, his mother was magical, wasn't she? Most likely Mum gave me this." He looked down at his hands for a moment, as if to make sure they were really his, before looking up to lock stares with his mother. Petunia, for her part, turned rather pale.

"And don't start in on me," Harry added as Vernon was opening his mouth. "We'll have to see what Professor Dumbledore has to say about this. I'm a mite curious to find out the story myself; Dudley _should_ have gotten an owl around the time I did."

"B-b-but t-that madman p-p-promised!" Petunia cried out, her teeth chattering. "He promised me!"

Harry and Dudley exchanged glances. "Promised you what, Mum?" Dudley asked, stepping forward.

"In exchange for us taking the boy in," Petunia managed, looking down her nose at Harry, "he was to make sure you turned out normal. And until now, it looked like he'd kept up his end of the bargain."

Harry suppressed a snort. Dudley, normal? "I expect he didn't think he'd have to account for Dementors scaring a little humanity into him. Anyhow, it's out of my hands now, and yours. This is between Dudley and the Headmaster, now."

"I won't let you turn my son into some kind of freak," Aunt Petunia screeched, her hands reaching out as if to throttle Harry.

Dudley stepped in her way. "I rather think you've given up the right to make that sort of decision, Mumsie." He went back to his room and scribbled something on a piece of scrap paper, tying it to the diminutive owl's leg. "Take this to that Dumblefellow, then, would you?" Pigwidgeon squawked, but managed to get airborne without too much trouble, and flew off into the night. "Well, that takes care of that," he said, turning around with a satisfied look on his face. "By the way, Dad, aren't you and Mum late for that important meeting?"

"That meeting will have to wait," Vernon growled. "I'm not leaving you alone with a bunch of freaks, no sir." There came a loud crack from downstairs. "I suppose that will be them. Well, there's nothing for it," he said, waving Dudley and Harry down the stairs ahead of him. "Are you coming along for this, Petunia?"

"I suppose I might as well," she answered. "Best to get it over with now."

Harry rolled his eyes. 'You should have gotten it over a long time ago, woman.' Dumbledore was standing in the middle of the living room, looking around at all the Dursleys' status symbols with a bemused expression. "Hello, Professor."

"How are you, Harry? No difficulty with the scar, I trust?" Harry shook his head and Dumbledore went on. "Dudley. How very good to meet you. Where would you like to begin?"

"Suppose you begin at when you people started to meddle with my family," Uncle Vernon said stiffly.

"Ah. Well, a while back, a young man named Bill Evans met a charming young girl and they fell in love and had two daughters. One of them, Lily, came to Hogwarts. The other," he said, pointing to Petunia, "did not."

"I know _that_," Vernon ground out. "I'm talking about my son here, not that boy's mother."

"I'm getting to that, Mr. Dursley. Perhaps you ought to sit down," Dumbledore suggested, waving him in the direction of an armchair. Vernon tottered backwards and fell into it, obviously surprised. "In due time, both girls fell in love with men that were, in hindsight, very well suited for them, though I daresay not many would have thought that of Lily and James at the time. Both couples had a son. Harry and Dudley, of course. Now, Dudley is related to Lily Potter, if not nearly so much as Harry is, and wizarding power is often carried in the bloodlines. There, you see? It's simple genetics."

"What does genetics have to do with why my son is manifesting this oddness _now_? If he really were one of you, wouldn't we have found out at the same time your thug came for Harry?"

"Ah, yes. That." Dumbledore sighed and sat down on the couch. "You don't mind, do you? Good. At my age, the simple comforts take on a great deal of importance." Harry smiled. It felt pretty good to see Uncle Vernon this perturbed, and not at him.

"My Mum said something about some kind of bargain," Dudley offered.

Dumbledore nodded. "Indeed. When Harry's parents were murdered, your mother agreed to take him in, on the condition that we — that is to say, Hogwarts — were to leave you alone, should you turn out to have any ability. I felt that the benefits of the protection this home could provide Harry outweighed the disadvantages inherent in such a deal. After all, I only said we wouldn't try to contact you; I made no promise about you contacting us, so when you went to Harry, I was free to respond. I am sorry it took this long, but I think we can have you up to speed soon enough."

"I WILL NOT HAVE MY SON BEING TAUGHT THIS TOMFOOLERY!" Vernon shouted.

"Who asked you?" Dudley retorted. "You've never denied me a thing I wanted before. Well, I want this."

"You don't know what you're saying, dear," Petunia simpered. "You've always disliked Harry's kind. You certainly don't want to go to a school full of them." She walked up to Dudley and laid a hand on his shoulder in what she apparently thought was a reassuring manner.

"No, Mum, _you've_ always hated his kind. I just disliked Harry, is all. Lucky little bugger, finding out what he really is at eleven, while I have to wait until I'm sixteen, and all because of your biases. So," he said, turning back to Dumbledore. "What now, now that I know?"

"The timing is a little inconvenient. Had you discovered this when you were younger, we could just bring you to Hogwarts with Harry in September. Had you not learned the truth until you were an adult, you would take correspondence courses to bring you up to speed. Unfortunately, neither is an option at the moment. Wizarding law says you must attend Hogwarts or an equivalent school until you are able to control your abilities, but we cannot simply insert you in your class with no preparation. It _is_ your sixth year, after all."

"Well, what do we do, Professor?" Harry asked. For one of the first times in his life, he felt sympathetic for his cousin. He wasn't entirely sure it would last, but helping Dudley did seem to be the decent thing to do.

"The both of you will have to come to Hogwarts. But right now, not in September. We have a month, that may be enough time. If not, well, we'll see then, won't we? Here," he said, digging into a pocket and coming out with a handful of bills. "This should be enough to get the two of you to Etteridge on the morning's train. That's not more than a dozen miles from Hogwarts. I'll have Hagrid meet you there." Dumbledore got up. "Don't worry, Mr. Dursley, I'll make sure your son is back in plenty of time for you to take him to Diagon Alley for his school supplies. Have a good night!" He Disapparated with the usual bang.

"A good night!" Vernon snorted. "A good night? With this sort of disruption? What does he take me for, a fool?"

"Probably."

Vernon spun around to face Harry, only to find the wizard pointing over at Dudley, who had a very satisfied grin on his face. "What did you say?"

"I said 'Probably.' After all, you're behaving like one. Look at me; I think I've got a right to feel disoriented and I'm the most level headed of us all right now," he said.

"There you go again, Dudley, giving yourself credit," Harry muttered under his breath. "Well, I, for one, would like to get a good night's sleep before tomorrow's train ride. Good night." None of the Dursleys made to stop him, so he headed upstairs, opened the window to let Hedwig out for the night, and fell fast asleep.

Morning came quickly, and with it came Aunt Petunia rapping at his door. "Harry! Get out of bed and make breakfast." Harry sighed. So it was back to this again.

He rolled out of bed, got dressed, and was about to head downstairs when he caught sight of Hedwig looking disapprovingly at the door. "Look, Hedwig, we're leaving today. It'll be fine. Here," he said, crossing to his desk and scribbling a vaguely explanatory note on a scrap of parchment. "Take this to Hermoine or Ron, whoever you find first; they'll get it to the other one. After that, come meet me at Hogwarts, okay?" Hedwig hooted and, grasping the note in her talons, flew out the open window.

Harry got breakfast out of the way quickly, though the Dursleys were a little disappointed at the spartan meal of bacon and eggs. With that out of the way, he went back upstairs and set about wrapping his broom into the most shapeless package he could. This little trip seemed like it might be a good time to get some flying practice in. That done, and with a few changes of clothes pushed into the bundle to give it extra shaping, he crossed the hall to check up on Dudley. His cousin had surprisingly managed to get a couple of days worth of practical clothes into a bag, though Harry had to talk him out of trying to bring the Gameboy. In the end, though, everything got settled out, and Harry and Dudley headed for the front door. Uncle Vernon had very pointedly left for work immediately after breakfast, so as to make it obvious that he didn't approve of this trip, but Dudley seemed reassured that his mother, at least, was willing to wish him a safe trip, even if it was joined with a plea to give up this nonsense.

The trip up to Etteridge was uneventful, especially compared to Harry's trips on the Hogwarts Express. Dudley leafed through several magazines left in the seat pocket and unsuccessfully attempted to flirt with the attendant when she brought the cart around to give them their packets of mixed nuts. Harry supposed Dudley had the right to feel a little nervous, but this was a little over the top. At least he didn't try to interrogate him about magic in public. That would have been too much to deal with.

At any rate, they arrived at Etteridge without getting thrown off the train, which Harry took for a minor victory. "Got everything?" he asked Dudley as the latter boy rejoined him on the platform with his duffel bag.

"Yeah. I am hungry, though. Do you suppose we have time to get a bite before that Hagrid fellow comes for us?"

"Dudley, you had enough on the train, didn't you? Anyway, Hagrid is nothing if not punctual, so we don't have time for anything like that. We'll just have to wait for lunch at the castle." Harry stepped off to the side, out of the way of traffic, to look for the giant groundskeeper.

"Punctual, is he?" Dudley asked doubtfully. "He doesn't seem to be very."

"Oh, give him a minute." A minute later, Harry shrugged. "Fine, give him two."

"You sure he knows how to find a normal railway station, Harry?" Dudley was beginning to sound strained.

"I never asked," Harry responded quietly.

"What?" Dudley looked as if he wanted to climb back on the train and go back to London. Unfortunately for him, it had gone already.

"Well, it's not exactly something that comes up in normal conversation, is it?"

"I am _not_ going to just stand around here waiting for this giant of yours to show up. Do something, Harry."

Harry rolled his eyes. What did Dudley expect him to do, fly up on his broom in the middle of town to look for Hagrid? Wait a minute, his broom! The invisibility cloak would probably be able to cover it. "Come on, Dudley," he said, heading for an alley.

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going up for a look," he replied, unwrapping his broom and handing the clothes to Dudley. "Here, hold onto these for me." He got on his broom and shook out the cloak. "Now you see me," he said, wrapping it around, making sure to fasten it underneath, "and now you don't. Be right back."

The scenery around Etteridge was beautiful, Harry thought, but he couldn't spot Hagrid for the life of him. He climbed higher. Unless Hagrid was walking, he'd be able to spot him traveling even from this height, but he still wasn't there. Harry looked around quickly to fix his bearings — Hogwarts was off towards the east, indeed about twelve miles away — and headed back for the alley. "Well?" Dudley demanded.

"No sign of him. I wonder if something's gone wrong at Hogwarts?" Harry said breathlessly as he climbed from the broom.

Dudley scowled "I should have expected something like this would happen."

"Oh, stow it," Harry said, wrapping the cloak tightly around the broom. "There, that should take care of odd stares. Now all we have to do is get out of town."

"We're not walking all the way!" Dudley looked slightly green at the very thought.

"You know of a better way to get to a castle out in the middle of nowhere? Come on." Fortunately for Harry, the train station was right at the edge of town, and all of Etteridge except for a few factories was built in a valley, so he only had to listen to Dudley's muttering for about twenty minutes. Once he judged they were safely out of sight, he stopped and began unbundling the broom. "You feel up to flying, Dudley?"

"What? Here? Now? On that thing? You must be joking."

"You'd prefer to walk the twelve miles to Hogwarts? It'll be a tight fit, but this is the best way. Get on." Harry climbed on himself, sitting as far forward as he could and still grip the handle.

Dudley climbed on awkwardly, nearly breaking off some of the twigs. "You better know what you're doing, Harry."

"Relax. Well, actually, you probably shouldn't. Hold on tight instead." Harry kicked off and they were airborne. The Firebolt didn't seem unduly burdened by the double load, but Harry didn't want to test its limits, so he kept it at a leisurely 60 miles per hour or so, figuring a ten minute ride might just get Dudley used to the idea of brooms.

They were almost there when, just as Harry was slowing down to give Dudley a better look at the grounds, the rotund boy cried out. "Somebody's shooting at us!" Indeed, an arrow was sticking out of the side of Dudley's duffel. Harry looked back along the path it must have taken and saw a group of centaurs standing in a clearing. A few more arrows whizzed by their heads, but they were almost over the forest by then.

That was when one of the arrows struck Dudley's shoe. Yelling, he lurched to the right, knocking both of them off the broom. Harry dangled from the handle, having caught it with one hand, but Dudley wasn't so lucky. He shrieked as he plummeted towards the forest below. Harry reached up and grabbed the handle with his other hand, then somehow managed to direct the broom down to Dudley and into the boy's flailing hands.

That done, he tried to get them safely to the front lawn, but Dudley was still kicking and jerking, causing the broom to veer wildly. At one point, Harry nearly impaled himself on the spire of Gryffindor Tower. In the end, though, they made a less-than-dignified landing atop the astronomy tower, though Dudley's bag toppled over the edge and fell to the ground below.

"You could have gotten us killed," Dudley accused, as he stood up and patted himself over for injuries.

"Me? What about you jerking us off the broom like that?" Harry retorted, hiding the invisibility cloak inside a shirt.

Dudley looked indignant. "It was my first time! What was I supposed to do? You never warned me there'd be people shooting at us!"

"Well, at least we're here," Harry said, opening the door and waving Dudley towards the staircase. "Welcome to Hogwarts."

Dudley muttered something obscene.

_Fin Chapter One_


End file.
